


Do it Like a Man

by Gone_to_Florrum



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Femdom, Humor, NSFW, PWP, Pegging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-15
Updated: 2013-09-15
Packaged: 2017-12-26 15:53:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/967806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gone_to_Florrum/pseuds/Gone_to_Florrum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he said she should 'do it like a man' this really isn't what he was talking about. Still business is business, and if this is what it takes to get the job done then Cad Bane knows which way to bend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do it Like a Man

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for Viropsychotic on devArt as part of a prompt meme. However, it seemed like a fair few people were really rather enthusiastic about the idea of Aurra doing Cad with a strap-on.

“Thirty-six guards in less than five minutes, Bane. I’d like to see you match that.”

The Duros knocked back the remainder of his Corellian whisky and shrugged. “Any two-bit merc with a sniper rifle can take out a few dozen guards, force sensitive or not. You want to impress me you gotta do it up close and personal, like a man....” He paused, recollecting the rather obvious non-maleness of his drinking companion.

“Like a man?” she repeated, giving a snort.

“....or de female equivalent.”

Then there it was: a sudden flash in her eyes. He recognised it immediately as that ‘certain glint’ she got when a particularly compelling idea occurred to her. Given how hazardous to others Aurra’s compelling ideas tended to be, Bane was immediately put on his guard.

“I could do it you know though,” She murmured thoughtfully, trailing a long finger around the rim of her glass. “Up close and personal.... _Like a man_.” A lascivious smirk creased her mouth. “Or should I say like _the_ man.”

Sneering as the rather obvious implication hit, Bane gave a derisory chuckle. “You want to play de man with me, Sing; you can damn well pay for de privilege. I don’t take it for free.”

She pouted in a manner she wouldn’t have done had she been entirely sober.

“Of course,” he went on, laying a conciliatory hand on her thigh. “If you wanted to get on my dick and ride it, I could live with dat.”

“Your generosity knows no bounds,” she retorted, reaching for the bottle and topping up her drink. “But I’m not in the mood for _that_.” She opted not to add that she’d just spent three days on Florrum trying to convince Hondo to lend his backing to a job on Boonta and was presently experiencing a certain amount of acute internal soreness.

“Suit yourself.” He shrugged and gestured to for the Aqualish bartender to bring him another drink. This was followed by another and another and several other anothers that would later become somewhat jumbled in his later recollections of the night (though he was certain that the sickly sweet Purple Mind Dazzler had to have come after the bottle of Twi’lek liquor as there was no chance he would have touched something such a vile shade of violet otherwise). After a friendly little pinch, grope and squeeze session with Aurra – which ended with her jerking him off in a back alley with precise, ruthless strokes while he mumbled something incomprehensible about long fingers – Bane made his unsteady way back to the CoZee Nite Hotel. Several hours later he awoke with a bitch of a hangover and a piece of conical-shaped traffic control equipment under his arm, all thoughts of Aurra’s sordid suggestion absent from his head.

Said thoughts remained absent from his head until, several months later, he found himself sitting across a table from her in a Nar Shaddaa dive bar and trying, with little success, to acquire her professional services.

“Dammit Sing, I’m talking forty-thousand credits for half a day’s work.” He slammed his fist down on the table, irritated by her continued obstinacy.

“And I’m telling you I’m not interested.” Leaning back in her chair she lit a tabac stick and took a long, slow drag. She did not, he well knew, smoke tabac as matter of course, so he could only assume she was trying to rub in the fact that he couldn’t touch the stuff until his breathing tubes were refitted. “I don’t know why you’re asking me anyway: a rookie with a slingshot could do what you’re asking for a twentieth of the price.”

“Der are certain... _complications_.”

“Oh?” 

“Force sensitive bodyguards.”

“But I thought _any_ two bit merc could take out a few dozen of them?” she mockingly retorted.

He glowered. Most mercs had the decency to not to remember irrelevant drunken conversations in the morning. 

“I’m not missing the Telvion arms fair, Bane,” she went on. “Not for something as small time as this.”

“You’re telling me dat you still need to tout for de big ticket bounties on some backwater on the far side of Hutt space?” He sneered

She rolled her eyes. “I’m buying not selling.”

“You can buy hardware any time.”

“Not at Telvion prices.” She took another drag. “Add fifty-percent to the fee and that _might_ be enough to offset the cost.”

“Forget it.”

“Then find someone else.”

For a while he fell silent, unwilling to match her price in credits for what was, when it came down to it, a simple hit and run smash and grab, but not entirely happy at the thought of having to settle for a lesser sniper. 

Then it hit him. The booze. The pout. The glint in her eye. 

“I’ll let you do it.” The words left his mouth before he really had a chance to consider their wisdom.

“Do what?” 

“Be the man.”

For a moment she merely stared at him. Then a smile spread across her face: slow, predatory and thoroughly dangerous.

He suddenly found himself fighting the urge to gulp. An urge that intensified sevenfold when she abruptly stood, grabbed him by the collar and hauled him up out of his seat.

“What de—?”

“No time like the present,” she said, releasing her grip before he had chance to shake himself free.

“I didn’t mean right now you schu-”

She leered and slapped his ass. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle... _ish_.”

Bane, having seen Aurra’s notion of ‘gentle’ in action several times, did not take any great comfort from this. Still, there was a part of him – a very strange and peculiar part that he endeavoured not to dwell upon to much – that felt a certain jolt of anticipation.

Half an hour later and he was naked and on his knees in a surprisingly ornate bedroom, staring at an seven inch phallus. Or, to be more precise, an seven inch phallus made of what looked to be blue sculpted duraglass and attached – via a complicated looking arrangement of straps and buckles – to the front of Aurra.

It was not, he had to confess an entirely unpleasing sight. Take away the fake dick and there was a damn fine looking body there.

“What’s da matter?” he said, sneering, when she failed to make a move. “Don’t know what to do with it.”

She smirked and reached down to stroke his face. The touch was light and sensual, but he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that it might well be a prelude to a slap. Hell, he’d watched her rough prisoners up enough times to know her modus operandi on that score. He was therefore not in any way taken by surprised when she jerked up his chin and looked him straight in the eye.

“Suck it.”

“Dat thing?”

“Now!”

Mentally shrugging, Bane made a show of kissing the tip and running his tongue along the ridged underside before opening wide and taking in the whole lot. 

As the blue column disappeared into the Duros’ mouth, Aurra experienced an almost overwhelming surge of gratification. Though the act offered no physical stimulation, the sight of Bane on his knees, sucking her pretend cock like a ten credit hooker gave her a kick that even paid Jedi slaying wouldn’t be able to match. 

Then, after a couple of minutes she pushed his head back and sent him sprawling to the plush carpeted floor.

Griping a little (though no to much) at the careless treatment, Bane propped himself up and watched as she plucked a phial of oil out of the black and red lacquered chest from whence the strap-on phallus had emerged and began to drizzle on the contents.

He swallowed. Half in apprehension, half in arousal. The thought of getting fucked up the ass by the piece of work that was Aurra Sing was not one that he relished. But dammit he was a man, and those long legs, curvy hips and nice firm tits _did things_ to him... to say nothing of that feral, moist lipped expression that his brain recognised as trouble but his dick jolted at.

“You know, I always had you down as a closet submissive.” she said conversationally, eyes directed at his burgeoning hard-on. “Seems I was right.”

He snarled. If pressed on the matter he’d accede to a lesser charge of masochism. Hell, what kind of lily-livered wimp shied away from a little hot sharp pain? However, there was a universe of difference between that and any desire for submission. Still, he doubted that Aurra – pathological sadist that she was – had enough of a grasp of nuance to comprehend this. 

“As far as I’m concerned dis is jus’ business.” 

She snorted. “Tell your prick that.”

He made a dismissive gesture. “What? I didn’t say I wouldn’t want to bang you. I jus’ ain’t looking forward to _dis_.”

Her expression suggested that she didn’t believe him. However, the flattery of her own sense of desirability clearly had some impact as she was good enough to toss the phial of lubricant at him.

Drawing upon the same brisk professionalism that he applied to his day job, he uncapped it, emptied half the contents out onto his fingers and then reached around to slick himself up.

After doing this for about half a minute, he heard sound half-way between a gasp and a grunt. Glancing up he saw her toying with her nipples. He inwardly snorted. Should have known that the kinky bitch would like to watch this. 

Smirking, he began to languidly slide two fingers in and out of himself. It was not a sensation he disliked... in fact, press down on a certain spot and it felt damn good, though not perhaps as good as the feeling that he was retaining the upper hand in this whole sordid scenario.

Turned on, but irked by the smugness Bane was exuding, Aurra growled, stalked over to the contorted Duros and ordered him onto all fours. 

He complied with surprisingly little complaint. 

For a few moments she looked him over appreciatively. Usually, she liked her men a little more solid, but for reasons even she wasn’t quite clear on, this skinny, strutting, hat-fixated Duros and his wiry frame got her going like no muscle-bound Zabrak or Nautolan prize-fighter could. Then grinning, she sank to her knees, slapped him hard on the ass and got down to business.

Bane fought the urge to wince as seven inches of premium quality sculpted duraglass was shoved into him. She did it smoothly enough to prove that she’d done it before, but it was equally obvious that she saw no benefit in gentleness. 

Still, he was Cad Bane and a certain reputation had to be maintained. 

“Dat the best you can do?” he demanded, as she began to move.

Her response was instant: a hand over his mouth and a hard, rhythmic pounding that would have rendered any speech he tried to make incoherent anyway.

“Mouthy. Blue. Whore,” she said, punctuating each word with a hard thrust. “Should have gagged you first.”

When she removed the hand in favour of taking a firm, sharp-nailed grasp of his hips, he mumbled something about liking to see her try it. He would have probably gone on to say something that would have caused her to temporarily halt proceedings and locate a gag, had she not suddenly succeeded in hitting ‘that particular spot’. As it was, his mutterings gave way to a series of rasps and groans.

Delighted by this obvious loss of control Aurra tightened her grip and quickened the thrusts. _She_ was doing this. _She_ was making the so called Greatest Bounty Hunter in the Galaxy moan like some bitch in heat. It was not however very long before the power trip combined with the rub of the contraption between her legs had her making almost as much noise as the being she was fucking.

She could come just by doing this.

_Was_ coming, _right now_.

Bane, for his part, was not at this point thinking in an entirely lucid manner. Part of him was – as ever – on guard for a knife in the back. The rest however was entirely focussed on the pleasure-pain pounding his ass was getting: an itch that was getting scratched but not in quite the right way.

Then suddenly long fingers were curling around his dick and squeezing.

He swore as he blew his load on the plush.

A few moments later she pulled out, her breathing deep and ragged. Feeling just a tad unsteady, Bane straightened, hauled himself to his feet and – after coming to the conclusion that standing would be a bit of a bother right now – sunk down onto the bed. He watched as Aurra, looking cocky and exhausted in about equal measure divested herself of the strap-on and tossed it into what Bane could only assume to be some kind of sex toy laundry basket. 

“Enjoy yourself?” he said, as she slid next to him.

She smirked. “You look good on your hands and knees.”

“Don’t expect to see it again... unless you’re payin’ cash dat is.”

“I don’t need to pay for sex.”

He gave a rasping chuckle. “You know, for someone who likes to play de man every now and den, you’re sure prissy about dat.”

There was dull thudding sound from somewhere in the adjacent room. “Dat your cleaning droid?” he said, suddenly alert.

“That’ll be Hondo." She sounded utterly unconcerned.

“ _Hondo_?” 

“He’s here for some auction: _Pirate’s of the Endless Seas_ memorabilia, or something.” She snorted. “Security’s going to be so tight that he thinks he might actually have to _pay cash_ this time.”

Before Bane had a chance to respond the bedroom door opened and a cheerful looking Hondo stepped through. On seeing the pair of them together he halted, looked from one to the other as if he couldn’t quite believe the signals that his eyes were sending to his brain and then beamed as though all his birthdays had arrived at once.

“My friends, it looks like you’ve started the party without me.”

At once acutely aware of just how very sore he was going to be in the morning, Bane looked at Aurra. “If he wants to party he’s payin’ cash upfront right now.”


End file.
